I have to focus, now I have to focus. Thoughts come through racing Screaming they mean anything more than My own fear. Break that down into Little bits.  And look at it. Look at it–white despondency Tied around my neck, A string of bayonets turned inward Around my stomach, Cancer growing concave in my skull….

On Pooping

     I poop a lot. I’ve already pooped twice today and I need to poop again. In certain circles of people who have known me for quite some time, this is one of my defining characteristics.  My friend Lori calls her bathroom, “Kevin’s room”.  When I didn’t work at home, I became intimately familiar…